


Tiny in a Library

by B_25



Category: Library - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Macro/Micro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:34:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21589183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_25/pseuds/B_25
Summary: Shrunk down by a cutie, exploring every inch of her body... who knew going to the library could be so sexy?[hr]Commission for Knarfdarf!
Kudos: 18





	Tiny in a Library

[b]Tiny in the Library [/b]  
[i]B_25 & Knarfdarf[/i]

Scott came back to the world [i]slowly[/i]. His mind set alight with the buzzing of a hundred different feelings and sensation all bearing the same theme. Tightening. Contracting. Shrinking. Like something had imploded within him, a constant pull on the rest of his form. 

He'd been chatting to himself, not on the phone but rather to himself, speaking aloud all for the sole purpose. Claire. The Liberian that worked there. The kinky girl beyond the classification of a cutie. What she wore was obscene—and only because it was [i]she [/i]who wore it... administrations had given her the right to continue to do so. 

And Scott became well-accustomed to this fact upon the monolithic mass of women hovering over him. Thick thighs of creamy white skin becoming taut as the giant squatted over the pile of clothing. 

That's what Scott sat in the middle of. Landscapes made of black pants with islands made of shoes set in the distance. They were large, but of course, nothing compared to her. Claire's mere shadow blanketed over all—and without the intent. 

“Nngh...” Scott sat upon the grass made of black, it's smooth sheen indeed the surface of his dress-pants. He'd been left naked on the floor. The clothing the last of any lingering warmth. “W-What the hell? Claire? Is that... why are you... aaah...”

While Scott was busy pressing a palm against his face—hoping the pressure would hold back the pain—the giant above settled into a comfortable squat. Her face contorted into a smile, briefly giggling. In her hand was a structure like no other. But written across it white were the blatant words of 'shrinker.'

And then after her giggle, she leaned to the side, pushing a finger to her lips, one longer than a bridge, briefly shushing him. By the time the small man looked up he was already smitten. He'd been for months, but now everything compounded with the reduction of his size. 

“Silly boy.” Scott heard her voice with a delay. His eyes locked in the place where the valley of her thighs conjoined. Her bulging vulva pressed against the tight white undies she wore underneath a blue skirt. It cupped her bottom to a maddening perfection. “You're supposed to be quiet in libraries! I told you this before.”

“Augh... b-but if I did that... then you wouldn't have a reason to come talk to me.” Scott then stood as proudly as he could upon the collection of clothing. He stared up. Past the vertical landscape of white to where the starting of her top. “They're allowing you getting away with wearing [i]that[/i]? No wonder why this library hasn't gone out of business.”

“Oh, hush you.” Her breasts. Those mountains of utter softness barely contained by the blue of her top. The blazer had been cut only beneath her chest with the sleeves cut and curled up just below her shoulders. She wore a disconnected cuff of peach around her neck. The tiny tie around it not even covering [i]half [/i]of the mass of her magnificent tits. “So you were hitting on me this whole time then? So much for guys being friends.”

“We are friends!” Scott said with his gaze lost in the sea of her chest, of the bountiful breast barely restrained by the thinness of her top, the corners pressed out by their softness, her cleavage vast enough to be made into a field. “Just... certainly not complaining if we become more than just that.”

“Then your wish is going to come true today, tiny boy.” Without warning Claire's fingers came forth from the sky, so long and so fast, a combo impossible. Still they came and swept the tiny many by the waist. Lifting him to her face. His minuscule reflection caught in the world of her glasses. “Thankfully this library is attached to a prodigious school. One of the clubs certainly won't mind this little device missing for a while.”

Scott felt the first urge to feel fear. “Tell me you have another one that says '[i]grower' [/i]somewhere, right?”

“Aww? What's the matter, sweetie?” Claire's eyes loomed beneath the land of glass, casting a soft glow of blue. Brilliant in every sense of the world. Also intensely sexy while the jungle of her blonde hair swayed through the air. “Don't you want to be with me? I've seen the way you've ogled my chest.”

Scott coughed. “Out of respect, of course.”

“Don't you worry about me being angry, darling.” Claire smirked upon lowering the small man to her lips, leaving him there to intake their width. How they sprawled out even within the farthest corners of his gaze. Warm exhales washing over him completely. “Tight underwear isn't comfortable y'know. Especially when bending over.” She engulfed him in a kiss, lathering him in subtle wetness and warmth. “But, somehow, I find it easier to do when I'm around you. Hmmm! Now what do you think about that.”

“I think my original point holds.” 

The giant girl sighed. “You little boys never learn, do you? Don't you worry.”

“What would I have to worry about?” Scott asked upon being drawn back. He felt too much like a toy within her grasp—but the view down made up for that. Those bouncy breasts asking for him to jump around on. “That kiss warmed me right up.”

“Your punishment of course! Like it or not, I'm a librarian and I take my job very seriously.” Claire's face rose higher into the sky as the hands lowered him, closer and closer to where paradise laid. “You're on time-out for the rest of your time here! And you're going to spend it trapped inside my top.”

Scott glanced down. The sprawling lands of silky skin loomed far below him, each breast jutting out into the distance far beyond him. All he could see was their perfection. Of the subtle slope that inched downward slowly. The crevice between the two squishy islands looking awfully long and deep, warm and tight. 

“That's the plan then? Keeping me tucked into your cleavage?” Scott held back any excitement from his voice—as if the proof thereof would somehow deny the possibility of it happening. His crotch tingled from the kiss. His cock inching and arching into hardness. “Seeing the world from your chest sounds fun.”

“Silly boy! But you still haven't learned how to keep quiet.” Claire stood while still lowering him, guiding her hand over the expanse of her boobs. She'd taken him for a fly-over of her right one. “You need to be kept in a place where you can't move around! Dark and tight. Plenty of time for reflection!”

Scoot realized with subtle fear of what that meant. In the distance he saw the great arch of blue fabric, curved from the slope of her breast as it rose out of view. Her other hand went forward to peel the material from the plush surface—revealing the dim, humid, and scented confined that was the cup of her top. 

“Oh shit,” Scoot whispered to himself. The gap was vast despite being nothing more than inches of space to the giant. “I'm screwed.”

“What's the matter, cute stuff? Unable to take on a sexy girl's nipple? And here I thought you were a man.” The distant, hazy features of Claire's face pouted—intensifying her adorableness. “Maybe being stuck in my top, against my tit, will cause you to consider your actions.”

Scott wasn't sure about that one but, after the dam of blue being held back by the fingers of the other hand, he was able to gaze into his fate. The curved back of the cup served as a dark canopy for capable of catching him. 

More than that, however, was the fatness.

The fatness of her [i]breast[/i]. 

The fingers tossed him in, as a toy rather than a person, into the cup. He fell against the warm, rising winds, seeing his destination approach. The pillar of her tit was a juicy shade of pink, long but not erect, twitching in anticipation. 

The first thing Scott did was slam into the bed of her boob, finding himself sinking deeper into the plushness, the milky texture of the skin flattening all over his minuscule body, consuming him in softness with ease.

Though due to the natural slope of the jiggly object, Scott quickly slid forward, unable to grab onto anything. His hands beat and reached on the bouncy warmth that guided him toward the waiting cup—all to the amusement of the giantess staring down from the heavens.

“Let's help you out with that—meow!”

Claire pushed her chest out with a tiny hop on a foot, causing the sea of her boobies to splash upward in a heavy wave that then came crashing toward. It was enough to throw the little guy into the round cup of the top, allowing him to roll, then settle.

He gazed up from the strange cot, unable to see anything beyond the crashing orb of tit. The softness came crashing against him at once, the boob jiggling in waves violent but slowly settling, rubbing all over his frame with scented softness driving his brain drunk on pheromones. 

It wasn't even the perfume he became drunk upon, but rather, the lavender scent Claire's skin exuded[i] naturally[/i]. The hefty weight stored at the front of her breast rolled over him. At the same time, the fingers holding back the cup then slowly away.

“Good luck beating my boob, tiny guy!” Claire's voice whispered from somewhere beyond the fabric—which gently slammed into Scott's back. He curved over the front of her breast, pinned against it entirely. “Now I still have some work to do! Hehehe, unlike you.”

[hr]

Claire gazed down at her chest with a subtle satisfaction. Bliss already stole her. Although none would be hard-pressed to see it—the sight of the little one, his form pressing against the fabric, was comical to witness as the weight of her breast pushed harder against him. 

His tiny form so easily seen through her fabric, pinned there by something like her boob, utterly suffocating him in her softness. There was no helping the swimming of her chest, the feeling of her jiggly boobs then wobbling in the air, beating harder and harder against his minuscule body.

All of that, of course, causing him to curve more, conforming better to her tit. 

Claire didn't even bother with the clothes on the ground. Rather, with a grin and a sweep of her foot, she tucked them underneath the towering bookcase. None would see it and none would go looking for them. With the little cutie tucked against the thickest swell of her breast, the [i]giant [/i]cutie turned to return to her work. 

Only.

There was a [i]problem[/i].

“Gah!” Claire hushed out the word as its source caught her by surprise. Due to the lack of a bra, her girls swung freely and subtly while she walked—tiny boy included. She rubbed and smothered him into place. “But... [i]mhmm...[/i] that's not... right...”

Only the problem was how much of an effect the little tiny was having upon it. It wasn't enough she was crushing him with a breast, him so sweetly tucked against it—oh no. The fact he was being crushed was enough to put a shudder in her step. What got her instead were the increasing sensations. 

Those of handsome Scott now taking action. 

“You... nnghmmm... n-naughty little boy...” Claire murmured underneath her breath, now putting an extra effort into her step. The increased power launched her puppies a little higher into the air when she walked, the enormous weight of breast smacking down onto the little on putting him into his place. “Trying to getting away by working at my tit. That... [i]mmghmm... [/i]won't work on... on... on me!”

[hr]

Scott found it hard to see beyond the faint shifting in the curved land of blue, the cup becoming loose then tight, the weight of breast lifting only to crash upon him. It felt like he was floating in water but always beneath a tidal wave. 

That, and he was horny beyond all fuck. 

But fate worked in his flavour in, having turned around and scaled slightly up the cup when the mass of breast raised that, when it came crashing down, it did so with him above its front. Of course, with the size of her chest and the smallness of her top, the material hugged around her mammaries that escape wasn't possible. 

What man, however, seeks to escape such a place? 

Instead he watched the breast drop and jiggle against the fabric. With it pinned there he turned, spotting the length of her nipple below. He latched onto it, the whole of his body supported by the tiniest thing on this woman, able to hold up the whole of his weight without the faintest sag to it. 

That was both wonderful and horrible simultaneously.

But the moment he held onto Claire's tit, the girl moaned in the distance, softly to the world but greatly to his ears. His cock sprang at that detail. Despite being so small, his efforts were still enough to get a girl off. Time for stage two. 

“Like this don't you? Having a tiny man pinned against your breast.” Scott hugged his legs around the pillar of skin. She was both hard and soft at the same time. The sensation beckoning him to embrace his nakedness harder against her yet. “But what is this silent library going to think... when you're going to be screaming in it?”

Scott gravitated his body down the long length of her tit, finding his head coming to the round wall of her areola. Without thinking he kissed it. The bittersweet taste lingering on his tongue while he lapped at her skin, drawing sensitive exhales from the heaves above. 

It didn't take him long, upon grinding on her nipple, to find a duct big enough to fit his cock. It took a few blind, drunk flicks to find himself in—the mightiness gripping around his cock that teased a new level of aching from it. He thrust himself inside while clenching himself to the nipple, gasping, not due to the exercise but as it grew.

Scott continued to hump her tit while glancing over his back, seeing how it tapered further into the distance, strong enough to push the curved wall of the cup further back. The fabric strained to contain it—causing the ceiling to press against him at once, tightly hugging him against her swelling nipple. 

Not that Scott minded in the slightest. 

[hr]

Claire sat on the chair before the counter with difficulty. It took mere seconds for her breasts to become heated and beyond sensitive, that little, errant tickle at one of their fronts causing her nerves to become all the more precise to every little thing to better register the extent of her acts. 

This made even the rubbing of her top enough to get her off. Her legs crossed over the other, pulling her panties even tighter, the plushness of her thighs now pressing against her crotch. Hopes had been that they would hold back the building heat, but really, all that rubbing did was encourage further wetness. 

Wetness.

Claire had been getting wet from [i]all [/i]of this. 

“Is that the way you're going to play this?” Claire said through heavy panting, gazing down at her breast, being fondled despite the lack of sight of anyone there. What a naughty girl she was. Being touched in a public place—with none around her any the wiser. “Seems like my top wasn't enough of a time-out place for you. Maybe this next place will be a smidgen more humiliating.”

Glancing around the library showed those nearby were seated at their tables, either sleeping or reading, no attention places upon her. Claire had to act quick. Peeling back the top from her breast she gazed into the dim gap. Even she could feel her warmth, the size of her tit now made substantial, if only because of the tiny body now clinging to it. 

The sight was both comical and attractive. 

But she didn't have time to admire. Rather her fingers dove in and pinched him again, during his wild thrusts nothing more than flicks against her tit, swallowing a giggle at seeing him hump the air. If Scott was already so lost to his perversion—then his next destination would serve him beyond well.

“What's the matter? Getting cold already?” Claire giggled while a dewy expression became her, both hands now underneath the desk, one tugging out the waistband to both her skirt [i]and [/i]her panties. “Don't you worry love. There's a nice warm place that'll warm you right up!”

Without a care in the world she dropped him in, looking strange to any who might have glanced, her tongue lewdly struck from her mouth as arousal washed over it. She dropped the tiny guy into the confines of her undies, watching him slide down the slope of cotton, enjoying how much closer he drew to her special place. 

Once reaching the center of the underwear, Claire bore little hesitation in winking at him, that was, before pulling her thumb from the brim. At once it snapped against her groin, a pleasurable slap of elastic, the greatness of cotton sucking to every inch of her skin. 

Along with an invited guest. 

[hr]

Scott came to a slow during his slide, the cotton stretchy and comfortable to impress, although the material, due to its vastness, easily came rising over every of his tiniest indention. Upon reaching the center of the panties, however, fate laid bare upon his gaze. 

On the bottom corners of his visions, the start of her thighs consumed the leg-holes of the underwear, a mass of plushness that he couldn't mind being pinned against at all. Of course that meant nothing to the quivering thing above him. That warm, scared place of that tasty scent, the subtle allure of feminine [i]musk[/i]. 

It bathed him. Making the air moist and the temperature heated. It was hot but not at all unpleasant—considering the source of the sauna. Claire's monolithic pussy marked the curved sky, the two mounds looking heavy and seeming squishing, running further than any slim hill.

Her folds parted slightly, though to him, was watching the sky then part. Not by much but enough to gaze within her cunny. Of the baking warmth of her depths, lightly wet and closing in tight, winking in need for anyone willing to meet its plead. 

Then came the drop.

The base of her pussy opened wide like the first yawn of the morning. It lazily drooled a droplet composed of nothing but slime. Girl slime. Bursting upon contact with his head and lathering his shoulders in the oil-like texture. It [i]reeked [/i]of pleasant musk. Now burning through his skin as this girl was quite literally drooling on him with [i]cum[/i].

Something about that was humiliating. 

But something was also terribly arousing as well. 

Even with his air matted over his eyes Scoot could not complain. Not even when the giant thumb above pulled away from the dome of cotton. His body flown with the arching slope, slammed into her pussy, wedged [i]right [/i]between the lips of her cunt. 

All that did, while his face and body were smudged and pressed directly into pussy, was cause the giant to shift in her seat. None could see underneath the desk where all of this was happening, but if few were looking to see up the skirt of the bottom-heavy girl—all they could make out were her vulva pulling the fabric taut around its every contour. But the more inquisitive eye, of course, would see the tiny bugle wedged between the two sprawling lips. 

Which Claire then poised two fingers in front of. 

“T-This girl is crazy!” Scott said in a shout, but even the inner-workings of the giant pussy were louder than him now. He'd talk aloud to win a chance of getting with this girl. And now a word she said didn't matter as they all travelled only to inside her cunny. “Let's... just hope I can be equally as crazy, eh?”

Scott took notice that, when he began moving, moans rumbled through the structure of the giant, tightening his world. He couldn't see more than a haze beyond the dense stitching of the crotch behind him, though he looked through the underwear, he would see the interior of her skirt—and of the two, round thighs, rubbing ever closer to the place of his new home. 

There wasn't much he could do now. Her folds were hugging him tightly now, each rubbing over him, one after the other as if tasting him. They were slick and their licks kissed him the same. They were soft but spongy, walls stinking of sex in a scent greater than any perfume. 

And each time, they drew him in closer, deeper. Scott turned and wrapped his body against the side of a lip, grinding himself against it, needing something to release himself against. The sight above, of the waistband taut against the stomach above, the feeling of being trapped and everything side caught there. It did wonders on him. Especially when her clit peeked from its hood. Rounder and bigger than him. No shame in the slightest. 

But trying to reach that was a pipe dream. Especially considering the shadow appearing over him. The tip of the round finger posed beyond his cotton prison. Aimed and waiting. Claire was pulling him inside by doing nothing more than flexing her cooch. There wasn't anything he could do to fight it—but struggling seemed to get them [i]both [/i]off.

Once the lips had sucked and suckled him downward, however, he found himself taken into the cunny by her folds alone. As if sensing they'd eaten their treat, the slit pressed tightly together, trapping him within. Scott was inside a pocket, one hot and steamy, the air made of only one thing.

The fleshy ground beneath him barely sagged despite the whole of his weight. Scott came to sit at the bottom of the cunny, the first sense of a break since all of this began, one that wouldn't last longer than a moment. Still, in craning back his neck, it amazed him to see how tall her slit towered—becoming too dark above, by distance and position, to see where it laid. 

He was so incompatibly [i]tiny [/i]to this woman that, even sitting within her cunny, and not even yet inside her cunt, her slit and her folders rose like towers, round and tall and strong like ones, with him caught beneath them. 

Real, fleshy and sexy buildings, all alive on this woman, while she went about her day, not experinced to the changes of her body that Scott now bore witness too. Of course that wasn't for much longer as something pressed and rubbed against the slit. Seconds after that, the massive fingers entered the panty-prison and, settling at the base of her cunt, then started her assault. 

[hr]

Claire knew better than to touch herself on the shift, but as far as she was concerned, none cared for the matter and she did it so quietly. Even with a hand lodged inside her panties she kept her composure, none nearby all the wiser to the duo of digits plunging within the depths of her cunt. 

The tiny had been caught by her tips, pushed inside into her baking warmth, slid across her walls and drenched by them, all contracting tightly and sweetly around both him and her fingers. Her cunny made desperately needy by the turn of events. Hungry for the faintest of actions. 

“Um,” the voice broke open her eyes, the sight of a young man towering over her desk. How long had she been lost to her lust? None sat even in the background of the library. “Excuse me, miss? I'm searching for a particular title. Could you perhaps help me?”

“O-Of course! J-J-Just a second here.” Claire rolled the chair over to the computer set on the counter, not bothering to remove the fingers from her cunny. The man inside couldn't do the job alone; the man outside couldn't see more. “What's the name of it?”

“Great Gatsby.” 

“G-GotchHAAAA!”

Claire clenched. Thighs locking together tight. That... little rascal! He'd been pushed in need as to roll over her most special of places. Didn't help that her whole body jerked at the sensation. At once the little man dropped to the spot, rubbing and humping it, kissing and biting. 

“Mnhmmm!” Claire clenched her eyes and bit her lips, striving to keep quiet, the one rule never to be broken. Her fingers hovered over the speck of a human and pressed down upon him, hard, applying tenfold of pleasure on the place that had caused [i]countless [/i]warm and gooey orgasms. “L-Let us see!”

There was no helping it. Not when her panties were flooded with slickness and the material all but damp with her love. Her tits pressed painfully against the taut wall of her cups. It quivered and ached, [i]begging [/i]for contact. 

Fuck they had become so sensitive!

One hand down her skirt and the other coming to her chest, she fondled the one breast, feeling the heft of plushness fill into her palm. Like touching something previously lit on fire, the heat of her boobs burned through the fabric, the intensity of it only driving her further to lustful insanity.

“M'am!” The man shouted at the top of his lungs, bad not only for her, but due also to the one rule. He stepped back, though his eyes kept on the same place. Shame and shock filling the droplets of sweat racing down his neck. “What are you doing!”

Claire didn't bother as the problem to her burning breasts revealed itself. Pulling the shrinker from beneath the desk, she zapped him in a single beam, the man small at once, not even an inch in the pool of his own clothes. 

“I swear you guys!” The world rumbled upon the stomping of her feet, the simple act of getting up and around the desk now capable of rocking the very lands of the ground. Her hand remained kept underneath the brim of her skirt even as she walked—pressing the tiny one inside harder against her preheated walls. “You're—[i]mmmhmm![/i]—supposed to keep [i]quiet [/i]in a library!”

Claire didn't bother too much with the new man for, while she admired the man sent deep within her cunt, this [i]new [/i]one was nothing more than a mere toy for her arousal. His gaze kept always on her breasts. This would be as much for her as it was for him. 

Without another word she pulled back the cup of her left breast, tossing him inside without remorse, delighting in the way he became utterly pinned against it. Much like before his figure was outlined in the fabric. It turned her on and made her giggle in a way never like before. 

Claire returned to her chair not caring at all for shame, still stroking her panties and rubbing the figure of the tiny man into the fatness of her breast, all aspects of her sexuality used to suffocate the men drawn by it. They got what they wanted—with more they could never dream of handling.

Or much less conquering. 

By the time Claire sat down the heat of her body was already reaching its peak. The fingers inside stroked her closing and quivering walls—wiping a tiny all over her love tunnel—while her palm pressed another into the balloon of her breast, enjoying his struggles and wiggles, both becoming stronger the more pressed in he became. 

The pure heat stemmed from her slender frame. Even the lack of clothes didn't heave in releasing all of that temperature. Everything poured, the shimmering from her breasts travelling down her taut stomach, all collecting in a blazing inferno within the burning confines of her pussy. 

Claire rocked her crotch and rubbed her ass against the chair, now humping all of her hand, the rise and drops of her breasts crashing and crushing the small one, her back flicking with the movement; her hips arching inches higher into the air. 

Until it all became free.

Her head shook to repress the howling pleasure bursting through her throat—but all the teasing built a current that couldn't be suppressed. While her boobs crashed a final time into the tiny guy, the clenching walls of her cunt locked around against the one within, both utterly trapped by her sex and thus fuelling it.

Claire tilted her head as the scream of pure orgasmic release bellowed from her lips, chest heaving from overwhelming goodness and her pussy clenching even tighter to grip that numbing pleasure to the highest extremes for [i]just [/i]a tad longer. 

The only problem was the case of where she was. Her scream fuelled by greatness, it became exactly that, echoing through the open area, off the walls that encouraged it, a sound captured and amplified, keeping on even while she slowed down. 

By the time she was done, the sweat of her breasts had darkened the blue of her top, the tiny within her pussy had been washed onto her panties and then contentiously splashed by torrents of her orgasm. Her body tensed in bliss until it reached its climax. After that, everything loosened, as did her panting. 

Knowing her own rule had been broken, that the two enthralled by her were now trapped by her assets, Claire only gave a drunken grin as her body became too loose for her to hold together. Legs spread wide and breasts pulled apart, everything on her body became on display while she sank into the chair, her head rolling all the way back onto its rest. 

And then, in raising a finger to her lips, the same one stinking of her incredible sex, Claire blew against it, shushing all—including herself—one final time until it dropped. Then she fell asleep, completely knocked out by it all and, quite ironically enough, beginning to snore in the most adorable way possible.


End file.
